


Nabi

by ddelusionall



Series: Butterfly (DBSK) [1]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, JYJ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Falling In Love, M/M, Master/Slave, Science Fiction, Sort Of, Spanking, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23912284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddelusionall/pseuds/ddelusionall
Summary: Yunho picks up a new crew member. Sort of.
Relationships: Jung Yunho (DBSK)/Kim Jaejoong, Kim Junsu (JYJ)/Shim Changmin
Series: Butterfly (DBSK) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723615
Kudos: 1





	1. Alien Slave Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I am importing my stories from LiveJournal. The original fic can be found [here](http://be-ddelusionall.livejournal.com/).
> 
> I haven't read this story in a long time, so I may have missed some tags. Just let me know if I did.

Yunho had not meant for this brief meeting to turn into a rescue mission. He had not meant for the meeting to be anything but an exchange of money for the raw iron ore in his cargo hold.

But then again, that was before he saw the slave, lying on a pillow next to the slimy, tentacled creature that ruled this outpost. Pale skin was riddled with sucker marks and bruises. Long light brown hair shone almost pink the lights of the room.

During their meeting, Yunho stared ahead, at Rewak’s three eyes, but his attention was on the green tentacle that rubbed back and forth over the slave’s ass, the tip dipping into his body, and on the way the slave whimpered or sighed every time it was penetrated.

Yunho may have ended up accepting a lower amount than usual because of the distraction.

He figured that was Rewak's reason for having the slave in view.

Even after the meeting, he had no thoughts of stealing the slave away. He returned to his small freighter and had his co-pilot Junsu get everything prepared for take off while he slept for a few hours.

But it was only an hour later that an alarm went off, jolting Yunho from his nap.

“What the hell?” he demanded as his ship lurched. He rolled out of bed, right onto the metal floor and then pushed up and ran toward the cockpit.

“What the hell?” he repeated as soon as he caught sight of Junsu, fingers flying over the controls.

“Don’t know yet. Working on it.”

Yunho peered out the windows and into the hangar bay. Nothing seemed out of place. And then his ship lurched again, and Junsu cursed, something his co-pilot rarely did.

“They had something on us. Like magnetic. Keeping us here. But now it’s not.”

Just as Yunho turned to look at Junsu, a pale streak of something passed by the side of his ship, followed by a green streak from a blaster.

“What the hell?”

Something pounded on the main door.

“Open the door,” Yunho said and spun out of the chair and hurled himself down the hallway.

“But--”

“Do it!”

Yunho removed his gun, and got to the door just as the hydraulics opened it and the pale, naked body fell against him, leg burning from a blast mark. “Fuck,” Yunho muttered, and then jerked when the metal by his head burned orange and exploded from a shot.

He held onto the body that was too thin and shot back, hitting something that had been shooting at him.

“Junsu! Go!”

“Make up your mind!”

Yunho shot a few more wild blasts into the hangar and fell back as the door shut, the pale body on top of him.

It took way too long before the ship lifted and zoomed out of the hangar.

Yunho held on tightly until the ship stabilized outside of the planet’s atmosphere, and then he realized the body was shuddering and whimpering.

“God, what the fuck?” Junsu demanded.

“Have no idea. Help me.”

With Junsu’s help, they managed to get the body (the boy, definitely a boy) into the medical bay and into a bed, and Junsu worked on the blast mark on his leg.

Yunho rubbed his hand over his face. “What just happened?” he muttered and stumbled back toward the cockpit to make sure that no one had followed him.

\---

The slave boy slept for almost twenty hours before he finally stirred. Yunho kept watch over him, worry for his wound, and that was all.

Though Junsu kept rolling his eyes whenever Yunho said that.

The boy was so very pretty, even with the bruises and skin marked with sucker prints. His long hair splayed over his shoulder and over his ribs. His shoulders looked square, and his waist was so thin. Human, mostly. His fingers were pale and thin, longer than Yunho expected. So pretty though. With a round face and slanted eyes. A small mouth. Plump lips.

When he finally woke up, Yunho was there, looking over him, and the boy’s blue eyes widened, and he smiled, made a noise of contentment, and tugged on Yunho’s arm.

“Wait? What?”

Surprised and still confused, Yunho let himself be dragged into the bed, and the boy wrapped himself around with another happy noise.

“What the fuck?” Junsu said.

Yunho looked at him, eyes wide, and shook his head. “I have no idea. Go get him some food. I’m sure he hasn’t eaten for a very long time.”

“What are you going to do?” Junsu asked, an eyebrow raised.

Yunho blushed. “Shut up. I’m going to find out his name.”

Junsu laughed on his way out the door.

Yunho shifted and then pushed up, bent arm above the boy’s head. The boy smiled and used both hands to tug on his hair and then Yunho’s muffled shouted turned to a moan when lips, soft, plump, pretty, landed on his and then the boy moved and legs wrapped around his waist, and Yunho had to put all of his self-control into his body and pull his mouth away.

The boy pouted.

“Pretty,” Yunho whispered. “Wait. Just ... what is your name?”

The boy licked his lips and pushed up to kiss him again.

Yunho shook his head and tried not to think of how perfect the boy fit underneath him, and then he lost his train of thought and lips were on his again, tongue in his mouth, and he moaned and then forcefully yanked himself away, falling to the floor next to the bed.

The boy pouted at him again, turned so his chin was on his arm. He reached for Yunho, and he scuttled back, away from him.

And then Junsu was back with a bowl of something steaming. “What’s his name?”

“Have no idea. Started kissing me. He hasn’t said a word.”

“You stopped kissing him? Wow. When did you learn self-control?”

“Fuck you.”

Junsu held the bowl out to the boy, but he just looked at it, confused, and Junsu sat on the bed and showed him the spoon. “You eat it,” Junsu said and took a bit to demonstrate.

The boy smiled widely, sat up, and took the spoon, but not the bowl, and Junsu held onto it while the boy ate the soup.

“He has a tattoo,” Junsu said and pointed to the winged creature tattooed just above the boy’s right pectoral muscle. A dark outline with bright colors. It looked like it was about to break from his body and fly away.

Yunho shuffled closer to the bed, and the boy smiled around a spoonful before swallowing. “What’s your name?” Yunho asked.

The boy kept eating.

“It seems like he does not speak Standard,” Junsu said. He put his hand on his chest and said, “Junsu.” He pointed at Yunho. “Yunho.”

Yunho did the same. “Yunho.”

The boy frowned and then kept eating.

Junsu shrugged. “I’ll enter his picture in the database and see if we can get face recognition from him. I’ll run his blood too, since I have a sample of it from his wound. We’ll find out where he is from.”

Yunho nodded. “Good idea. I’m going to go find him some clothes.”

Junsu waggled his eyebrows. “I thought you liked eyeing pretty, naked things.”

“Shut up.”

Yunho stood up and moved to the door. The boy made a distressed noise and babbled in a foreign language and attempted to move, but the wound in his leg hurt, and he cried out, falling back, but with his tear-filled eyes open on Yunho.

“Okay,” Junsu said, “I guess I’ll go find him some clothes. He seems to like you.”

They traded places, and as soon as Yunho sat on the bed, the boy was curled around his waist, head at his hip. Yunho’s hand shook as he touched his soft hair. The boy shuddered, but soon calmed, and then fell asleep.

Junsu returned with a folded flight suit, and then went to cockpit. Yunho stayed put, up against the wall, and let himself sleep.

\---

Yunho woke up to the feel of fingers on his skin and the blinding pleasure of a mouth on his cock. He moaned something that sounded like Junsu’s name, and then his eyes opened. His blurry vision cleared, and it took him a few moments to realize that it was not Junsu sucking on his cock, but someone else, and then another long moment before he remembered the slave boy, and he shouted out and yanked the boy off his cock.

The boy frowned and pouted at him and crossed his arms.

“No,” Yunho said and shook his head and tucked his cock back into his pants. He found the flight suit on the floor and kept his eyes away from all that naked skin.

The boy was not happy, but Yunho persisted until he was in the brown jumpsuit and zipped up. It was one of Junsu’s and still big on him, but with skin covered, it was much easier to not fall for his charms.

And then the boy was in his lap, legs on either side of Yunho’s thighs, and his hands were in his hair and his mouth, again his mouth, was pressed tight to Yunho’s, tongue digging at him a moment later.

Yunho moaned, and his arms wrapped around the boy’s waist. On their own.

Addicting.

“I think I’m going to have to lock you into a storage compartment,” Junsu said from the doorway.

Yunho whimpered and tried to push the boy away, but only managed to get his lips free and then the boy was pressed tight against him, face on Yunho’s chest.

Yunho sighed in exasperation and kept ahold of him.

“His DNA is from the Canrifly System, a planet called, Layonos.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Me neither.”

“How close are we?”

“Too far to make it worth our while. We need supplies and fuel.” Junsu held up a translator. “Now that we know what language he speaks.”

Yunho put out his hand and Junsu handed it over. He showed the boy the contraption and how it worked, and then said, “My name is Yunho,” into it.

It spit out a language, words that had the boy sitting up with a happy look on his face.

“What is your name?” Yunho asked.

The boy spoke into it carefully. It said something that sounded like, “Youngwoong.”

The boy grinned and said something else.

The translator said, “Master.”

Yunho shook his head. “I am not your master.”

The smile went away.

“What are you doing here?” Yunho asked. “Why ... why did you come on my ship?”

“ _Ran away_.”

“Why?”

The boy looked down at his arm, at where there were still a couple of fading sucker prints. “ _Didn’t like him. Was going to kill you_.”

“What?” Junsu said.

The boy, Youngwoong, started rambling. The translator barely kept up, but it was enough for Yunho to understand that Rewak had sabotaged the ship, held it in a magnetic field, that his people were going to go in and kill Yunho and Junsu, they had a hit on them of a hundred thousand credit from the Zaspians, but Youngwoong liked Yunho, so much, and he knew how to destroy things. Rewak’s set up was so primitive, and so Youngwoong ran.

Yunho had no idea what to say. He owed this boy his life.

Which meant he was going to take the boy home.

“Junsu says you’re from Layonos. We will take you home.”

His eyes went wide and he shook his head. “ _Can’t. Not there. No. I was sold. I don’t ... I can’t go back. It’s ... bad. Dishonorable. I am a slave. You are my master_.”

Yunho shook his head. “Not a slave. Not mine. Not anyone’s.”

The boy pouted and crossed his arms. With a glare, he said, “Master.” In Standard.

Junsu was trying not to laugh. The bastard.

“ _Slave_ ,” the boy said again. “ _Always. I belong to someone. It is dishonorable to go home after being sold_.”

Yunho’s eyes widened and he looked at Junsu.

“I did not do any research on the planet,” Junsu said, “just got a name.”

“I’ll do it.” Yunho got up, this time ignoring Youngwoong’s pout and noise of protest. He pointed a finger in his face and said, “Sleep. Rest. Heal your leg.”

“ _Don’t go, please, don’t go_.”

“I’ll be back,” Yunho promised, the translator doing its job to relay that information.

The boy still pouted, arms crossed.

“I promise,” Yunho said. “I will be back.”

“ _Please don’t desert me_.”

Yunho shook his head. “I won’t. I will be back.” He left the room and did not turn back to look at the pretty boy.

\---

There was not a lot of information on the Canrifly System or its only habitable planet. Humanoid species, on the small side of height and weight. Light skinned with minor healing abilities. A brief history of the planet only explained its discovery by the Federation, and that it was a monarchy government. They had no listed exports. There was no information on anything else.

Yunho huffed in frustration.

There was nothing corroborating Youngwoong’s claim that he would be dishonored if he returned home.

Yunho figured he would just have to trust the boy.

There were a few images of others from Layonos, and they all looked just about as young as Youngwoong. He wondered how old he was.

“You better go back,” Junsu said. “He’s getting pouty.”

Yunho rolled his eyes. “So what? I should just lock him up in the cargo bay.”

“Should lock you up in the cargo bay. Yunho, what is wrong with you? A pretty little alien wants to be your slave!”

Yunho glared at his friend.

Junsu laughed. “I know, I know. You are so noble. But I bet you five hundred credits that you’ll have him riding your cock before we dock at the next station.”

Yunho grumbled at him and tried to find anything else about Layonos.

\---

The next day, Yunho went into the medical bay and frowned at a very naked Youngwoong on the bed.

Youngwoong smiled so widely at seeing him and cried out, “Master!” in Standard. And then he scrunched his face and said very slowly, “Hello. How are you?”

Yunho smiled and shook his head. “I’m fine. How are you?”

Again, his face scrunched in thought. “Horny.”

Yunho chuckled. “Too bad. Are you learning Standard?”

“Learning!” He nodded vigorously.

“Good, maybe that will keep you occupied.” Yunho pointed to the clothes and said, “Put them on.”

Youngwoong made a face with his tongue out in disgust that was not cute, no, it was not. He spoke into the translator for his word. “ _Itchy_ ,” it said.

Yunho frowned and then left the medical bay, ignoring the shout of protest from Youngwoong. He went into his quarters and to the wall dresser. He pressed the corner of a drawer and it slid open with a hiss. A gray t-shirt and boxers. He fought back the blush. They had to be his boxers because Junsu did not usually wear anything under his pants or flight suits.

Almost stomping, Yunho returned to the med-bay.

Again, Youngwoong’s face twisted into a huge smile when he returned. “Hello. How are you?”

Yunho smiled. He was going to have to work on that. “Here,” he said and held out the clothes. “Put these on. Wear these.”

“Naked better.”

Yunho shook his head. “Put them on and I will sit by you. If you don’t, I will go to the cockpit.”

He waited for the translator, and as soon as it was done, actually half way through, Youngwoong was scrambling to put the clothes on. He pressed his hands to the soft material and smiled up at Yunho.

“Better?” Yunho asked.

Youngwoong nodded. “No itchy. Sit!”

Yunho sighed but sat on the bed. Youngwoong snuggled up against his side, the translator in his hands.

He said something into the translator and the translator relayed, “Kiss me.”

There was a denial on Yunho’s lips when Youngwoong said the word again, and then again. After the fourth time, he said, in Standard, “Giss ne.” The translator relayed it in his own language, and based on the frown it did not work, so Youngwoong tried again and then again, until he could say it in perfect Standard.

Yunho stopped him from saying another word, turning his head just enough. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Good job.”

The translator relayed it, but it was the glow in Youngwoong’s eyes that let Yunho know he was understood.

Also from the way that after every word he learned, he demanded, “Kiss me.”

And Yunho kissed him.

\---

“How old are you?” Yunho asked the next day.

Youngwoong was inspecting the bandage on his leg. “Old?”

Yunho nodded. “Old? How many years? When were you born?”

Frustrated, Youngwoong grabbed the translator. He had learned a lot of Standard in the last twenty-four hours, but not so much that he needed to be frustrated.

“ _Twenty-forty-seven_ ,” the translator said.

Yunho’s eyebrows shot up. “Forty-seven?”

Youngwoong nodded. “Problem?” _Is that a problem? Why is that wrong?_

Yunho removed his communicator from his pocket, activating the main screen. He read the date, 2084, and then held it out to Youngwoon. “This is today’s date. Are you sure you were born in forty-seven?”

Youngwoong rolled his eyes and held up four fingers and then seven fingers. “Yes. And yes. I know today.”

Yunho took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. Youngwoong was older than him by ten years. It was hard to imagine. Hard to believe. With what he had learned about Layonos though, it made a bit of sense. They were groomed and bred to be slaves. Small humanoids. Pretty. Delicate.

Yunho had travelled the universe enough to not judge a being by its body.

“Fuck.”

“Yes,” Youngwoong said. “Fuck me.”

Yunho smiled and shook his head.

“You bad master.”

“You’re a bad master,” Yunho corrected.

Youngwoong laughed. “You’re a bad master.”

Yunho nodded. “Good.”

“Kiss me!”

Yunho laughed and kissed him.

\---

Yunho hated it when Junsu was right.

It wasn’t really his fault though. After three days in the medical wing, Youngwoong was able to walk, and he followed Yunho everywhere. The only way to stop him was to tie him to a chair, but Yunho did not want to do that. So Youngwoong followed him. Into the galley, into the cockpit, into his bedroom.

Into his bed.

Yunho sighed. He did not have an extra one. This was a small freighter, just enough space for two people.

Two people and Youngwoong apparently.

Though Youngwoong was happiest in Yunho’s bed.

And Yunho woke up more than once with the little minx’s tongue on different parts of his body.

And it was harder and harder to say no to his pout.

By the end of the first week, Youngwoong spoke Standard. Mostly. His reason: “I need to speak like my master. I need to understand my master.”

“You’re very good at Standard already.”

“Good enough for a kiss?” he asked with a smile.

Yunho playfully rolled his eyes like he always did, but leaned over to press his lips to Youngwoong’s. “Always good enough for a kiss.”

“So I will ask for more.”

“Ask? Aren’t you supposed to do as your master says?”

“Yes, but you are a very bad master.”

Yunho chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You are a very good person.”

“Slave. I am a slave. Your slave.”

“Nope. I do not own people, Youngwoong. I do not want you in my bed or in my ship because you are a slave. And I don’t want you to want to be there either because you are a slave. I want you to be there because you want to.”

“But I do want to!”

“Yes, but because you’re a slave. Not because you’re my friend.”

Youngwoong pouted. “I do not understand.”

“I know.”

“I have ... I have to be a slave.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Then I ...” His face wavered, eyes filling with tears. “But I am a slave.”

Yunho pulled him close. He understood a little. Being told you didn’t have to be the thing you have always been. But he also knew that Youngwoong did not know what to be besides a slave.

“Keep learning, keep studying. You can stay here. I won’t kick you off my ship. But you are not my slave.”

Youngwoong pressed his face to Yunho’s chest. He mumbled something that sounded like, “then you won’t ever kiss me again.”

Yunho twisted and tilted his head up. “I don’t kiss you because you’re my slave.” He pressed a light kiss to his lips. “I kiss you because you’re pretty and you’re cute and you’re adorable and you make me laugh. Why do you kiss me?”

Youngwoong bit his lower lip. “Because ... because ... I don’t understand!”

Yunho chuckled. “I know, but you will. Do you think I’m handsome?”

Youngwoong nodded. “Beautiful!”

“So you can kiss me because you think I’m handsome.”

Youngwoong smiled and jerked forward to press a kiss to his lips.

“Do you think I’m nice?” Yunho muttered, not willing to release his lips to ask the question.

Again, Youngwoong nodded. “Kiss to be nice?”

“Yes.”

Youngwoong shifted, practically climbing into his lap, knees pressed into the bed on either side of his thighs. Yunho moved his hand to his hips to steady him. That was all. And it was Youngwoong that opened his mouth, Youngwoong’s tongue that touched his first. Really. Yunho pulled him closer, one hand in his hair, the other falling to cup his ass.

Youngwoong whimpered. “Kiss to be horny?”

Yunho laughed at the muffled question that he did not really understand. Did they kiss because they were horny? Was it okay to kiss Yunho because he was horny? No matter really, because Yunho knew the answer to that.

“Yes,” he said and smiled at the happy noise from Youngwoong’s mouth. They kissed until an alarm told him it was his turn in the cockpit, allowing Junsu time to sleep. They kissed until Yunho was straining against his flight suit and Youngwoong was grinding down on his lap. They kissed until Youngwoong’s lips were bright red and his hair was messed up from Yunho’s fingers.

“Kiss because ... kiss because I like kissing?” Youngwoong whispered.

Yunho smiled and nodded. “Definitely. Come on. Let’s get to the cockpit before Junsu comes to find us.”

Youngwoong frowned.

“What?” Yunho asked, running his finger over a soft cheek flushed from kissing.

“I do not want to kiss Junsu.”

Yunho chuckled. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. He is handsome. He is nice. He is funny. But he is not my master.”

“Neither am I.”

“I know! But ... but you are ... you are ...”

Yunho pressed a kiss to his lips. “You’ll understand soon. Come on. I’ll teach you how to control my ship.”

“To fly ship?” His eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Yep. Come on.”

Yunho stood up and stretched. He ignored the hand on his hip and headed to the door. Youngwoong scrambled after him and pressed against his side, hand curling into Yunho’s. He looked down at him and Youngwoong smiled.

“Happy?” Yunho asked.

Youngwoong’s smile widened. “Happy!”

“Good.”


	2. Demanding Lover Boy

Really. Yunho hated it when Junsu was right.

After a long and grueling shift in the cockpit, Yunho staggered into his bed. They had flown through a dangerous stretch of space, one controlled by pirates instead of the Federation. He had to fly manually and on low power to slip under any sort of radar the pirates had.

He barely noticed the other body in his bed, or all the bare skin, too intent on sleep. He blamed the exhaustion, he blamed the pirates, he blamed Junsu, he blamed everyone but himself for waking up to fingers on his balls, a mouth on his cock, and doing nothing more than wrapping his hands in light brown hair and thrusting up into a warm mouth.

His head did not clear until the pleasure peaked, until he came down from his orgasm, until the mouth and throat swallowed, and lips moved up his stomach and chest.

He opened his eyes, and moaned, covering his face with his arm to block out the vision of Youngwoong’s pretty face, come on his lips and chin.

“Yunho,” Youngwoong said, voice wavering a little. “Bad?”

Yunho shook his head. “Not ... not, but ... damn it, Youngwoong.” He moved his arm and used it to pull Youngwoong close enough to press a kiss to his lips, lick up the come on them, hold him tightly.

His other hand slid down his back, to his bare ass.

Youngwoong rubbed against him, cock slick and pulsing against Yunho’s stomach.

Yunho should have stopped him. Or even protested a little bit. Instead, he tangled his hand in Youngwoong’s long hair, angled his head for a deeper kiss, and used his hand on his ass to rock him against his body.

Youngwoong whimpered into the kiss, body shaking. It did not take much longer for Youngwoong to come, break away from his mouth with a gasp, and moan out his release onto Yunho’s skin.

Yunho meant to talk about it, meant to tell Youngwoong that it was not okay because Youngwoong still thought of himself as a slave. But he was so tired, so relaxed, so ... calm, with Youngwoong pressed next to him.

When Yunho woke up again, he was alone in bed, but not in the bedroom.

Youngwoong knelt next to the bed, wearing one of Yunho’s white T-shirts. It was too big and shifted to the side, showing off his shoulder and the colorful curves of the butterfly tattoo.

The mess Yunho vaguely remembered making on his skin had been cleaned up.

“Youngwoong,” Yunho said, voice hoarse.

Youngwoong flinched and said, “I am sorry.”

Yunho sat up, squeezing his eyes shut to push away the exhaustion.

Youngwoong was trembling.

“Oh, you’re too pretty to cry,” Yunho whispered and touched his shoulder. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Disappointed you. I ... I ... I’m sorry!”

Yunho tugged on his arm. “Come back up here. What do you mean?”

“You ... I’m ... I’m sorry!” he spluttered even as he let Yunho pull him back into the bed and up into his arms.

“For what?” Yunho asked and kissed the shoulder bared by the T-shirt.

“For ... for ... orgasm. No permission.”

Yunho chuckled. “You do not need my permission to have an orgasm, Youngwoong.”

“Not allowed. You don’t want me!”

Yunho tilted his head up and kissed at his cheek, salty with tears. “I do want you.”

“But you said ... you ... not my master.”

“I do not want you to be my slave, Youngwoong. That does not mean that I do not want you at all.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

He tugged the T-shirt further and licked at the tattoo.

“Nabi,” Youngwoong said. “It’s ... in my language. The mark. It is a nabi. I do not know the word in your language.”

“Butterfly,” Yunho whispered against it. “Nabi is prettier. Just like you. So pretty. My pretty Nabi.”

Youngwoong huffed. “Yours. Belong to you.”

Yunho shook his head. “Not as a slave, my pretty Nabi.”

“But--”

“An example. Junsu is my friend.”

Youngwoong’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t want Junsu. He can’t have you!”

Yunho laughed. “Exactly. I do not want Junsu, but in the past, Junsu and I have had sex because we both wanted to. We both are friends. We both understand that we are friends.”

“But-- but--”

“But what?”

“You don’t want Junsu?”

“Definitely not. Not in the way I want you.”

“Way?”

“Yes.” Yunho let one hand slide down Youngwoong’s back and to his ass. “I want you this way,” he said and squeezed. Yunho smiled and kissed him. “But not as a slave.”

Which was not reassuring to Youngwoong at all, based on his pout. He still did not understand. But Yunho figured he had plenty of time to demonstrate and show him.

“Did I order you into my lap?”

Youngwoong shook his head.

“Did I order you to suck on my cock? Did I order you to kiss me? Did I order you to be sexy in my T-shirt?”

Youngwoong blushed and ducked his head. “I’m sorry.”

“No. Do not be sorry. You can do all of that. Anytime you want. But not because I’m ordering it. Do you see the difference?”

Youngwoong huffed. “Because I want to.”

“Exactly.”

“But I want you to order me!” He crossed his arms and glared at him.

Yunho shook his head. “I can’t do that. You are not my slave.”

Youngwoong huffed. “And you are a bad master.”

“Exactly. I am horrible at being a master. I am much better at being a friend. Being a lover. Being ... being me. And I want you to be you.”

“I am a slave.”

“Not here. You are not a slave here, Youngwoong.”

Still the boy glared.

“You belong here,” Yunho continued. “On _Bambi_. You are a part of us. I am the captain. Junsu is a co-pilot. You are a co-pilot.”

“I can’t fly!”

“Not yet. But you are part of us now. You belong here, but not to me. You are my friend. Not my slave.”

Youngwoong frowned and picked at the hem of the T-shirt. “I belong here,” he said, unsure.

“Yes. And,” Yunho cleared his throat and let his finger brush against Youngwoong’s cleft. “You belong here. In bed.”

Youngwoong shivered and pushed back on his fingers.

“In our bed.”

“Our?”

“Yes, our bed. It is our bed because you are not a slave. I want you to stay in our bed. I want to kiss you and touch you in our bed. Not my bed. Our bed.”

“Not Junsu’s bed!”

Yunho chuckled. “No. Our bed.”

Youngwoong bit his lip. His hands landed flat on Yunho’s chest and he pushed back. Yunho did not try to move away and let a finger slip into Youngwoong’s tight body. And already sick, and Yunho moaned, pumping his finger slowly.

“Our bed,” Youngwoong whispered.

Yunho nodded and used his other hand to pull him close enough to kiss. Youngwoong met his mouth eagerly and thrust down onto his finger.

“Pretty Nabi,” Yunho gasped. “So pretty.”

Youngwoong twisted his hips and Yunho’s finger fell from him, and then Youngwoong was sitting on his crotch, undulating and sliding his slick skin on Yunho’s erection. He whimpered, begging noises that had Yunho throbbing.

“Fuck it,” Yunho muttered and reached behind Youngwoon, for his cock. He moaned at the touch of his hand still slick with Youngwoong and then gasped when the head slipped through his sticky cleft.

Youngwoong whined, and Yunho let him, leaned back to the bed, lying flat, and Youngwoong shifted enough to position himself and then sank down on him, hands gripping Yunho’s chest tightly.

“Fuck!” Yunho shouted, hands gripping Youngwoong’s hips. He thrust up and Youngwoong moaned. It was tight and slick, but perfect, and Youngwoong’s head fell forward, long hair over his shoulder and he bounced, quick movements that Yunho just sat through. With the pleasure twisting through him, he had no other choice really. He shut his eyes as his orgasm coiled low, and then Youngwoong whimpered, a tight noise of displeasure, and Yunho shot his eyes open, just in time to see Youngwoong rip off the T-shirt, leaving him naked and flushed in Yunho’s lap. His hand went to his own cock, and Yunho watched for a moment before taking over. Youngwoong cried out, head back as he bounced on Yunho’s lap and rocked his erection through Yunho’s fist.

Everything tightened and a mess of milky fluid shot over Yunho’s hand and onto his neck and chest. Youngwoong practically screamed through his orgasm, everything tightening around Yunho’s dick, and Yunho was panting, thrusting weakly up into Youngwoong but gripping his hips so tight. Youngwoong fell against his chest, just as Yunho came, and his cock fell from the slick tight grip as he pumped out his orgasm all over Youngwoong’s ass and his own body.

Too many minutes went by before Yunho realized that Youngwoong was shaking, maybe even crying.

Yunho wrapped his arms around his body and hushed him, whispering praise into Youngwoong’s shoulder, mouth against the tattoo. Eventually, Youngwoong stilled and turned his face up to Yunho’s. There was no hesitation in their kiss.

“Good?” Yunho asked.

Youngwoong smiled and nodded. “Good. Again?”

Yunho laughed and rolled them over, propped up on his elbow. He used the other hand to touch, up and down his body, through the sticky and slick mess around his cock. Youngwoong lifted his leg over Yunho’s giving him access to his ass, and Yunho slipped two fingers into him, pulling them out covered in a clear fluid. He licked them clean, and then went back for more, with his mouth, shifting until he had both of Youngwoong’s legs off the bed and he spread his ass open and licked up from his pulsing entrance the sweet slick that was mixed with the tangy spunk of his own come.

Youngwoong tugged on his hair with every high whimper.

Yunho lapped at him, one two three fingers, spreading them open, digging for more of his release. A species bred for slavery and sex, Yunho was not surprised that Youngwoong came with his own lubrication.

He sucked on Youngwoong’s cock for a little while, fingers buried deep, and then he crawled back over him, mouth on his nipples and then the tattoo.

“Again!” Youngwoong demanded, gripping behind his knees.

Yunho laughed and held his cock down and obeyed.

\---

With a long-suffering sigh, Yunho tossed five one-hundred credit pieces onto the console in front of Junsu.

Junsu stared at it, and then at him, at the mess of his hair, the hickys on his neck, the absolute relaxed and satisfied smirk, and he laughed.

“Such great self-control, Jung.”

“It was worth it. Shut up.”

\---

It was his own fault really, for getting distracted with Youngwoong’s pretty skin and face and body. It was his own fault that he had forgotten about the hundred-thousand price on their heads that Youngwoong had mentioned.

He certainly remembered now, two weeks later, after they docked at a spaceport on Zealanea and exited _Bambi_ and came face-to-barrell with about a dozen charged, ion blasters.

Youngwoong hid behind Yunho, fingers tight in his shirt, whimpers small but audible in the silence.

“Fuck,” Junsu muttered and then said, “Choikang! What is this?”

A tall humanoid broke from the others. He was all legs and strong limbs, with hair twisted out in a spiked clumps around his head.

He smirked, the look just enough to make Yunho shiver. He said, “Your pretty head is worth about fifty thousand Cs right now, Xiah.”

“Why?” Junsu demanded. “We’re freighter pilots, not smugglers.”

There were a few snorts of laughter around the hangar.

“Okay, so we’re not _always_ smugglers.”

Choikang smiled, showing off the double set of sharp teeth on each side of his mouth. “The Zaspians say that you flew off their planet with about a year’s supply of fiber-diamond wiring meant for their colony on their moon.”

“A year’s supply of fiber-diamond wiring? Don’t you think that if we’d stolen it that, we’d be flying around in a nicer piece of shit than _Bambi_?”

“Hey,” Yunho said, drawing more laughs.

“Good point,” Choikang said, “but how do we know you aren’t lying?”

“When do the Zaspians claim we took it?”

“Two months ago.”

“Two months ago we were in the asteroid belt mining iron ore for Rewak’s outpost. We just got done delivering it, and if you do not mind, I want some food that hasn’t been dehydrated.”

Choikang lowered his gun, and the men around them did the same. “Rewak, huh? I knew I recognized that pretty thing behind you, Jung.”

“He’s mine,” Yunho said, wrapping an arm around the boy pressed tight to his back. “Rewak included him in the price he paid me.”

“You should let Xiah do the talking,” Choikang said and motioned to Junsu with his blaster. “He’s better at making shit up than you are.”

Junsu rolled his eyes. “Rewak did. Check our records. You think we’d sell raw iron ore for the price that octopus gave us?” He said that with a glare at Yunho, and Yunho had the grace to duck his head in shame because really, he’d been way too distracted watching Rewak fuck the boy with his tentacles. “The boy was part of the deal.”

“Then I guess I won’t shoot you if you let the slave into my bed for the night.”

Yunho glared at him, and Youngwoong whimpered louder. “He is not a slave anymore.”

“And yet, he belongs to you.”

“Because I want to!” Youngwoong shouted and then blushed and hid his face in Yunho’s side when all the attention went to him.

Yunho smirked. “You’ll just have to settle for Xiah,” he said.

Choikang smirked and a moment later, a thin green tentacle shot through the air and yanked Junsu to his tall body. “Don’t mind if I do.” The tentacle slipped into the back of his pants and obviously pushed into his body.

Junsu moaned and shook in Choikang’s hold. “Not here, fuck. Not ...”

But Choikang ignored him, ordered his men out of the hangar bay, and Yunho was quick to follow them. He turned back just before the door shut to see Junsu already naked, suspended in the air by a swarm of tentacles with at least three of the green appendages inside him.

Yunho looked around him and pulled Youngwoong close to make his way through the group of Zealaneas that had just held him at gunpoint.

“Come on, pretty Nabi,” Yunho said. “We’re going to get you some proper clothes and find a place to eat.”

\---

With the money from Rewak, Yunho arranged to have some maintenance and repairs done on his ship, and then he took Youngwoong shopping, putting him in pants and shirts that fit him, buying him boots, a silver pair that went up to his mid-thighs that Youngwoong adored, and then a leather jacket. He looked amazing.

While he was shopping, his communicator beeped at him, sending him a confirmation to a hotel that he had not reserved only to find out that it was from Choikang. A note apologizing for the guns was attached.

Once Youngwoong had enough clothes to form a fashion habit, Yunho dragged him to the hotel room and promptly tore the clothes off, pressed Youngwoong’s face to the floor and fucked him from behind. And then, much to Youngwoong’s delight, they took a bath, in a huge jetted tub with flower bath salts that added another layer of sweetness to Youngwoong’s skin and the delicious slick in his ass. It was only partially Yunho’s fault that he bent Youngwoong over the edge of the tub to eat out his ass. Again.

And then again.

Youngwoong did not mind at all.

\---

Junsu staggered into the hotel room late the next day. His wrists and ankles were a mess of bruises from too-tight tentacles. His back and stomach were covered in sucker prints and bites from Choikang’s sharp teeth.

Yunho laughed. “I’d ask if you are okay but I can already tell you are.”

Junsu gestured at him obscenely and went right to the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Youngwoong whispered.

“I’m sure he is. Choikang did everything that Junsu wanted.”

Youngwoong frowned a little at that. “You told those men I was yours.”

“You are,” Yunho said and kissed his temple. “You are my Nabi.”

“But not a slave. I still ... I don’t understand why it is different.”

“If you were nothing but a slave to me, you would have spent the night or maybe even a few days with Choikang, and he would have allowed even more of his men to be with you. But you are not a slave.”

“I don’t have to let whoever wants to fuck me anymore.”

“Exactly.”

“Just you.”

Yunho grinned and pulled Youngwoong into his lap. “Just me. And I will fuck you whenever you want me to.”

“Now?”

Yunho slipped his hands into the back of Youngwoong’s soft pants. “Of course.”

Youngwoong bit his lip. “I want ... I want ...”

Yunho leaned forward and kissed him. “What do you want? Tell me?”

Youngwoong said nothing but moved away from him, and ignored Yunho’s pout, and shimmied out of his pants. The shirt soon followed, leaving his pretty pale skin on display for Yunho’s gaze. Mostly pale. There were a lot of blotchy purple hickys.

Youngwoong moved back, shaking a little, but he did not straddle Yunho’s lap like he was expecting, but dropped over it, hands on the floor, ass in the air.

“Nabi?” Yunho said.

“Spank me.”

Yunho shivered. “What?”

Youngwoong looked up at him and smiled. “I want you to spank me.”

“Why?” Yunho asked and rubbed his ass, unable to keep his hands away.

“Because I want you to. It makes me horny!”

“It makes you--”

“Spank me!” Youngwoong bit Yunho’s leg.

Yunho yelped and slammed his hand down on Youngwoong’s ass. He yelped and then moaned, hips shifting.

“Again!” he demanded with another bite and another moan.

Yunho echoed the moan and did it again. Then again. And again, peppering his pretty skin in pink.

Youngwoong shifted only once and then thrust against his thigh, each smack to his ass bringing out another cry, another whimper.

Yunho spanked him until his skin burned red, until the handprints stopped fading and just piled up on one another. If Yunho paused too long between smacks, Youngwoong lifted his head and demanded, “Again!” Some time later, he realized that the inside of Youngwoong’s thighs was slick and he paused to run his fingers through it, up to his ass, press two and then three fingers into him before removing them and licking them clean.

Youngwoong’s demands faded to whimpers and loud desperate noises.

Yunho flung him to the bed suddenly, landed a firm hand on his ass and said, “On your knees.”

Youngwoong complied, head to the bed, ass in the air, and Yunho spread him open and sucked at the sweet slick. His hand found Youngwoong’s erection, and he gripped it, stroking fast. Youngwoong was panting, fingers digging harshly at his own knees. His body was shaking, cock throbbing, and Yunho pulled away from his ass just long enough to say, “Do not come, Nabi. No coming. Not until I say.”

Youngwoong keened in surprised anguish and his breathing lengthened, body stilling, and Yunho went back to his feast. He used fingers and his tongue until Youngwoong was gaping and Yunho was licking the inside of his walls, fingers spread and twisting.

“Please, please, please, please.”

Yunho’s head swam and he jerked away. He gripped Youngwoong’s ass, a perfect fit in his spread fingers, and then brought his hand down in a wet smack.

Youngwoong screamed and thrust back for another one.

Yunho gave him one more, and then held his cock down and thrust into him. All the way, until their bodies pressed together and the slick mess slipped down the front of Yunho’s body. He moved quick, hard, fingers gripping Youngwoong’s hips too tight. He let one hand move up, into Youngwoong’s hair and he yanked him up, to hear his cries, hear his pleadings echo around the room. He held him until his orgasm threatened, and then he pushed him away, flipped him over, hooked his ankles at shoulders, his hands pressed tight to the bed by his head, and he thrust back into his beautiful Nabi.

Yunho leaned down enough to lick at his lips, unable to kiss him while thrusting so hard.

Youngwoong squirmed, long fingers digging into Yunho’s back and shoulders. The pain from his nails, the sudden tightness around his cock had Yunho’s vision swimming, his body taut, on the verge of release, and Youngwoong whimpered, eyes fluttering open.

His mouth stayed open, desperate gasps echoing around them. And then he licked his lips.

“Master. Master! Please, master, please!”

And Yunho moaned, covered his mouth in a heavy kiss just as his orgasm hit, and he pumped Youngwoong full of his release, moans echoing the shivering of his body. Yunho collapsed on top of him, and barely noted that Youngwoong was moving, thrusting against him, whimpering and begging for release.

“Come, let me come, please let me come. Master, please. Please, let me come, master. Please.”

Yunho licked his lips, trying to swallow the dryness, and then he pushed up, body still encased in his beautiful Nabi.

Yunho smiled and went to his knees. He pulled Youngwoong close, ass resting on his thighs. The tight muscles of his entrance continued to contract around him. He slipped his fingers into his opening with his cock and pulled them out covered in his come and Youngwoong’s slick. He licked them clean, moaning and then gave his fingers to Youngwoong to lick clean.

“Please, master, please, please.”

Yunho traced the colored swirls of his tattoo with one hand, and used his slick dirty hand to grip Youngwoong’s cock. “Okay, my Nabi, my beautiful, lovely, Nabi. Come. You can come.”

Youngwoong cried out in relief, body going taut for just a moment. His back arched off the bed, heels digging into Yunho’s arms and then he was coming, pumping his release all over his body. He sagged, chest heaving with deep breaths. Yunho ran his hands all over his body while he recovered, pausing to lick his fingers clean or let Youngwoong do it.

After a couple minutes, Youngwoong opened his beautiful blue eyes and smiled. “Good master.”

Yunho frowned. “You are not a slave.”

Youngwoong stretched, muscles tensing, including the ones still encasing Yunho’s cock.

Yunho moaned and ran his hands down Youngwoong’s inner thighs, rotating his hips slowly.

“Not a slave,” Youngwoong said with a satisfied sigh, “but I can be, when you want me to be.”

“Fuck.”

“Not again!” Junsu said from the doorway. “I prolonged my bath for as long as I could.”

Youngwoong laughed. “Sorry, Junsu!”

“I’m not,” Yunho muttered.

Junsu plopped onto the other bed. “If you’re going to fuck again, get another room. I’m exhausted.”

“Same,” Yunho said. “We’ll sleep first.”

“Bath first,” Youngwoong said.

Yunho nodded. “Bath first.”

Junsu snorted and said, “Be careful, Yunho, or Youngwoong is going to end up being your master.”

Yunho smiled down at the pretty, blushing Youngwoong and said, “That’s okay. I will do everything I can to make my beautiful Nabi happy.”

“Happy,” Youngwoong said. “I am happy as your friend.”

“I am happy as your lover.”

“I’ll be happy when I can sleep,” Junsu said.

Youngwoong laughed and shifted away. Yunho’s cock fell from him with a slurp and Yunho moaned, headed between Youngwoong’s legs to lick up the sweet treat.

A pillow smacked into his head. “No!” Junsu said.

Youngwoong stood up on unsteady legs and laughed at Yunho’s pout. “Come on, master. You can lick me clean in the bathroom.”

“Damn it,” Junsu said and rolled out of the bed. He picked up his communicator and a second later, he said, “Choikang, where are you? ... With Micky? Perfect. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“You’re not going to get any sleep with Choikang and Micky,” Yunho said as he followed Youngwoong into the bathroom.

“After listening to Youngwoong beg for his master to let him come, that’s kind of the point,” Junsu said just before the door swished open and shut.

Yunho laughed and stepped into the bathroom. To his surprise, Youngwoong had the translator in his hand. After three weeks, he’d learned Standard almost perfectly and he hadn’t used the device in days.

He said, “Lover” into it and it said something in his language. Blushing, Youngwoong repeated it and then looked at Yunho.

“Well,” Yunho said and moved by him to fill up the tub with water. “Is that a good word to describe you? My lover.”

Youngwoong nodded. “But ... but ... that means ...”

Yunho sat on the edge of the tub and pulled Youngwoong between his legs. “What does it mean?”

“It means that ... that you ... you are part of me. That you are ... you can’t ever leave me. I can’t ever leave you. You’re ... mine. All mine. Not a slave. That’s what it means. Not a lot of people on Layonos are ... lovers. We are slaves. Only ... only royalty are ... not slaves.”

“You are not a slave.” Yunho pressed a kiss to the tattooed skin. “You are my lover. You are my beautiful Nabi.”

Youngwoong’s smile lit up the bathroom and in his enthusiastic response, they both fell back into the tub, water splashing everywhere and Yunho’s arms around his beautiful Nabi.

The translator gave a few staticky protests from where it had fallen in the water before going dead. Yunho frowned at its demise; it had told Youngwoong everything that Yunho had been attempting to explain for so many weeks.

“You are mine,” Youngwoong said again, almost like he could not believe it.

Yunho nodded. “All yours.”

Youngwoong smiled and kissed him.


End file.
